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BRIEF MEMOIR OF JANE BETHEL. 



"Know ye not that ye are the temple of God."— 1 Cor. iii. 16. 



AMERICAN SUNDAY-SCHOOL UNION, 

No. 316 CHESTNUT STREET. 

NEW YORK: No. 147 NASSAU ST BOSTON: No. 9 CORNHILL. 

LOUISVILLE: No. 103 FOURTH ST. 



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Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1S54, by the 

AMERICAN SEND AY-SCHOOL UNION, 

in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Eastern District cf 
Pennsylvania. 



X£r* No books are published by the American Sunday-School Union 
without the sanction of the Committee of Publication, consisting of four- 
teen members, from the following denominations of Christians, viz. Bap- 
tist, Methodist, Congregational, Episcopal, Presbyterian, Lutheran, and 
Reformed Dutch. Not more than three of the members can be of the same 
denomination, and no book can be published to which any member of the 
Committee shall object. 



NOTE. 

This is a real life, and not a picture. It is the auto- 
biography of one who seemed to all who knew her as 
indeed a living temple for the indwelling of the Spirit 
of God. She was not merely submissive to the will of 
her heavenly Father, but she kissed the hand that led 
her, by a path of weariness and toil, sorrow and sick- 
ness, to the promised inheritance. 

Let this brief record teach us that the grace of God, 
sought by the humblest of his creatures in the way 
of His appointment, will give strength to endure every 
burden, and to triumph over every foe. 



1* 



JANE BETHEL. 



The meanest floweret of the vale, 
The simplest note that swelled the gale, 
The common sun, the air, the skies, 
To her were opening paradise. — Gray. 

Jane was born of very humble parentage. 
Her mother was a pious woman, with good 
native powers, but without any advantages of 
cultivation beyond those which a district school 
afforded — and these, fifty years ago at least, and 
in some small towns, were far less than there are 
now. There were four children, of whom two 
were girls. 

Jane had a slender frame and a very clear 
complexion ; her eyes were between blue and 
gray; and her hair, (of which she had not 
much,) might pass for a golden brown, though 
in truth it was nearly red. This she always 
kept so neatly, that what would have been un- 
becoming upon some persons, on her only made 



8 JANE BETHEL. 



more forcible the impression of neatness and 
perfect purity, which her whole appearance 
indicated. Her brow was wide and full, and 
the blue veins were so distinct upon the tem- 
ples, that they seemed to be painted upon the 
surface. Her mouth was wide, but her teeth 
were nicely kept, and her smile was always 
unconstrained and pleasant. She was high- 
shouldered and very thin. Of course you will 
see that there was little outside attractiveness ; 
and that she was indebted, for any power of 
pleasing that she possessed, to something within 
the temple. 

We have all seen, by daylight, porcelain 
shades that seemed only rough and unsightly 
plates of china. But, when the lamp within 
the shade was lighted, they revealed pictures of 
beauty and traces of loveliness, of which, when 
unillumined, we had supposed them incapable. 

So it was with Jane, and I believe no one 
ever knew her long, without mentally applying 
to her, lowly and unadorned as she was, the 
exquisite description of the lady in Milton's 
Masque of Comus : — 



JANE BETHEL. 9 



"A thousand liveried angels lackey her, 
Driving far off each thing of sin and guilt; 
And in clear dream and solemn vision 
Tell her of things that no gross ear may hear; 
Till oft converse with heavenly habitants 
Begin to cast a beam on the outward shape, 
The unpolluted temple of the mind, 
And turns it by degrees to the soul's essence, 
Till all be made immortal." 

Her father died when Jane was quite young, 
and it is soon after his death that we shall in- 
troduce her to you. 

Moreton was one of the little villages in the 
valley of the Connecticut, about four miles 
from the river, where the land begins to swell 
into hills, whose sides are covered with fruit- 
trees, and where the little intervals between the 
hills, protected by them from the cold winds, 
abundantly reward the toil of the farmer. Be- 
sides repaying a hundred-fold the culture be- 
stowed on them, they produce spontaneously in 
all their neglected nooks, by the road-sicle, in 
the woods, and in marshy places, the most ex- 
quisite and fragrant wild flowers. There the 
anemone and the arbutus welcome the spring, 
and the delicate blue gentian, opening her long- 



10 JANE BETHEL. 



fringed lashes, smiles to the autumn, making 
every beholder admire her surpassing delicacy, 
and calling all hearts to worship Him who 
scatters the beautiful tokens of his love and 
skill so freely upon the earth. 

Perhaps the best way to give you Jane's 
history will be to let her speak for herself; 
and for this purpose we shall now have recourse 
to her diary and letters, which will explain 
themselves. 

Feb. 10th. — To-day I am fifteen: it is now 
three years since father died. "We have sold 
all the good furniture, piece by piece, to sup- 
ply our daily wants, and mother has worked 
very hard to let me go to school. It is time 
for me to begin to work for her. I see that 
this last swelling on her back is far worse than 
the one she had before, and I am sure she 
works too hard. She must not take in any more 
washing, and I must either go out to service, 
or go into the mill, and earn enough so that 
we can live with what sewing and knitting she 
may be able to get. I wish I could teach a 
school, but I am not old enough, and besides, 



JANE BETHEL. 11 



I do not know enough, and there is no money 
to send me any longer where I could learn. 
I wish I had a rich uncle as Sarah Smith has. 
But no ! Have I not a Father in heaven ? 
And as he has not seen best for me to have rich 
friends to take care of me, I must take care of 
myself, and be thankful for the faculties and 
the health that he has given to do it with. 

There is poor Amelia Grey — she has had to 
go to the alms-house because she is idiotic, and 
all her friends are dead, poor thing ! God has 
blessed me so much more than her, and yet 
how unworthy I am ! But I must stop writing, 
and help mother. 

Feb. 12th. — I conquered my wicked pride 
yesterday, and went to see Mr. Brown, the mill- 
owner. He was pleasanter than I expected. 
I got Annie Grey to go with me. He said he 
would give me two dollars a week. I came 
home and cried right hard. Blessed Saviour ! 
forgive me, and help me to feel all the time 
that thou dost love me, and that thou wilt take 
care of me. Christ was not too proud to be 
the reputed son of a carpenter : why should I 



12 JANE BETHEL. 



feel degraded by going into the mill ? I will 
not feel so wrong any more. He has made me 
poor, but he could as easily have made me a 
queen's daughter and rich, if he had seen fit. 
I want to say, "Thy will be done," from the 
bottom of my heart. 

Feb. 22d. — I have now been in the mill a 
week. Some of the girls are very bad. They 
say things they ought to be ashamed of. It is 
hard to be obliged to hear their foolish and 
wicked speeches, when I know that only the 
"pure in heart" can see God. I feel afraid 
that I cannot work in a mill and keep pure in 
thought. Yet God sees every vile thing that 
is done, and hears every impure and profane 
word that is spoken; and yet he retains his 
unspotted holiness and purity. Holy Father, 
I lift my soul to thee ! Thou hast the power 
to keep me even in this furnace, so that the 
smell of fire shall not remain on me. Keep 
me, God! 

Feb. 2Qth. — How good the Sabbath seems 
after a week's work in the mill ! How pleasant 
to go to church all day ! I never loved to hear 



JANE BETHEL. 13 



my minister so much. He seems to lift me 
out of mire and dirt, and lead me to meet my 
Shepherd beside the clear sweet waters of life. 

I did wrong last week, and felt wrong. I 
began to feel that I was so superior and so 
much better than some of those boisterous, 
coarse girls at the mill, that before I knew it 
I was looking proud and scornful. I spoke to 
one of them and said, "I wouldn't behave as 
you do for any thing.'' She called me a 
"canting Pharisee," and I believe there was 
too much truth in the taunt. When shall I 
ever be really meek and lowly of heart like my 
blessed Master ? 

Feb. 29th. — Two years ago to-day my dar- 
ling brother set off to go to sea. "Where is he 
now? I think of him in every storm. Poor 
fellow ! If he were only a Christian, I should 
not feel so anxious about him. I do not pray 
enough for his salvation, and the reason is I 
suppose because I do not desire it as earnestly 
as I ought, I am so occupied with daily work 
and care. 

March 5th. — My side aches dreadfully some- 

2 



14 JANE BETHEL. 



times. I am not going to live long, I believe. 
I do not wish to say much, only to take care 
of the rest. How good my Sunday-school 
teacher is! She asked me to tea Saturday, 
and I hurried to get my work done at the mill. 
She lent me the Memoirs of Henry Martyn 
and of Felix Neff. How silly I have been to 
think I had any trials ! In a Christian land, 
with a dear mother and sister and friends, 
with a good minister and Sunday-school teacher ; 
what if I do have to work. What if I am poor. 
What if I am honely and plainly clothed ! Oh ! 
how ungrateful I have been. Bless the Lord, 
my soul ! Praise shall henceforth be con- 
tinually in my mouth, and my spirit shall re- 
joice in God my Saviour. 

March 12th. — I am so glad Miss Emily 
learned me how to keep a journal ! My flowers 
are coming on nicely, and the hyacinth she 
gave me looks beautiful, but not so beautiful 
and sweet as she does. I believe she is one of 
God's chosen ones. She brought mother some 
medicine to-day, and a parcel of clothing that 
she had done wearing, and she gave me some 



JANE BETHEL. 15 



magazines that she had laid by. They are re- 
ligious, and I shall enjoy reading them when 
the summer light comes, so that I can read 
without burning candles. 

March l±th. — Miss Emily has been sick. 
How I wish I did not have to w r ork now ! I 
should love to take care of her so much! I 
went to ask her to let me watch with her, but 
she would not allow me to. She said there were 
plenty of friends who could sleep all clay to 
take care of her, and so I had to give it up. 
Lord Jesus, watch over her and lay thy rod 
upon her very gently! 

March 20th. — Miss Emily sits up now a 
little every day, but she is very weak. This 
warm day will help her. I am sure I heard a 
bird this morning, and he sang as if he would 
say, " Grod is good." 

March SOth. — I am getting quite used to 
the mill; but the melting snows and the rains 
have made bad walking, and I have had my 
feet cold and wet half the day. My side aches 
more, but I have a good colour, and so I sup- 
pose I must be well. Miss Emily rode out to- 



16 JANE BETHEL. 



day, and stopped at the door to let mother see 
her sweet face. They say she is engaged to 
be married. I hope it will be a long engage- 
ment. 

April 2d. — Miss Emily thinks she shall be 
strong enough next Sunday to re-commence the 
Sunday-school for coloured children, that she 
has had for two years. She went down to the 
neighbourhood where they live, w T hich is in a 
sort of dell, half a mile from her house, and 
found there were a dozen children from four 
to fourteen, who went to no Sunday-school and 
seldom to church. One of the women said she 
would let Miss Emily have her best room for 
an hour and a half every Sunday afternoon 
after church services, and she has been and 
taught these children two years. She is 
greatly interested in it, and says it was really 
surprising how the story of the birth of our 
Saviour at Bethlehem, and its announcement 
by the angels to the shepherds " keeping watch 
over their flocks by night," affected them. She 
thinks they have much love of poetry, and 
much imagination and quick feeling, which 



JANE BETHEL. 17 



ought to be taken advantage of by those who 
teach them. It is astonishing how dramatic, 
how life-like, how poetic, and pictorial the 
Bible is. She says she never appreciated its 
universal adaptation to the human mind and 
heart as she has since she began to teach it to 
these ignorant ones. 

April 5th. — Little Jennie over the way came 
to see me last night. It was twilight, and I 
never light a lamp early, both to save oil, and 
because I love the season so well. She stood 
at the window watching the stars, while I told 
her a little of their glorious Maker. Oh, said 
she, how beautiful they are ! They are God's 
money, don't you think they are? I thought 
it very pretty. She is a bright, quick child, and 
is in my class in Sunday-school this year. 

April 8th. — I get along better at the mill 
than I did. 

" Though dark be my way, since He is my guide, 
'Tis mine to obey, 'tis his to provide : 
His way was much rougher and darker than mine : 
Did Jesus thus suffer, and shall / repine ?" 

April 8th. — We have got some old casks, 
and James sawed them in two for me. A boy 

2* 



18 JANE BETHEL. 



at the mill painted them green, begging the 
paint of the painter, who lent his brush long 
enough for the boy to do them. They are 
quite elegant flower-boxes. Some of the girls 
have helped me, and we have got daisies, vio- 
lets, pinks, and one rose, and the window near 
us at the mill will not look so cheerless as it 
has. It will do us all good. 

April 12th. — Eaised blood yesterday, and 
felt very weak, but am better to-day. I must 
work, at any rate ; for if I do not, what will 
mother and Amy do ? 

April 20th. — Sick two or three days, and 
have been out of the mill; lost four days in 
all. 

April 26th. — The air is full of the songs of 
the birds, and some little patches of grass look 
less brown, and others are glowing like an 
emerald ring that Miss Emily wears. I was 
glad to see her on her horse to-day. Cantering 
about will bring the colour back to her cheeks, I 
hope. She gave me, last Sabbath, some poems 
that she had copied for me: "The Psalm of 
Life." How grand it is ! it makes me stronger 



JANE BETHEL. 19 



to read it. I wish I could write poetry, and I 
sometimes think I could if I only knew how to 
begin. They say a lady wrote 

" I love to steal awhile away." 

It is in the "Village Hymns/' and I sing it 
every Sabbath at twilight. "Dundee" goes 
beautifully to it. I am glad mother let me 
learn so many hymns when I was a child, for 
now in the mill, when the girls say bad things, 
or bad thoughts come into my head, I go right 
to saying over a hymn to myself, and make a 
little prayer in my mind, and they do not 
trouble me any more. How good God is to 
give me such helps ! There was a fierce storm 
last night, and I was long awake thinking of 
our poor George. When shall we hear from him ? 
April 80th. — I saw to-day the gentleman 
that they say Miss Emily is to marry. I do 
not like his looks, not but that he is handsome 
in form and features, but he had a segar in his 
mouth, and he did not seem like her. Her 
brother was with her too. He is going to be 
a missionary. My brother James is in his 
second year at Squire Bean's, and looks like 



20 JANE BETHEL. 



a farmer. He thinks too much of being 
rich. 

May 6th. — Warm, sunny, and glad. The 
air in the factory yesterday during the rain 
was stifling, and I nearly fainted, but to-day I 
feel better. I am troubled about mother. 
She can hardly get around at all some days. 

July 4:th. — To-day no work at the mill, so I 
washed the paint and windows, mopped the 
flour, and ironed my things. While I was 
standing ironing and singing 

" My faith looks up to thee," 

I heard a step. The dog York, who belongs 
to the ugly man that rents the rooms below 
our's, was lying under our stove. I had petted 
him, and he had become fond of me, and gone 
with me to and from the mill very often ; but 
he is a fierce creature, and sprang at the sound 
of the step. He reached the door before me, 
and sprang upon my poor sailor brother, (for 
it was he,) and, before I could think, had bitten 
one eyebrow quite in two, and made such a 
gash near his eye on the side of his nose, that 
the blood flowed freely. I got water and lint, 



JANE BETHEL. 21 



coaxed the dog out of the room, got sticking- 
plaster, and dressed the wound. After stop- 
ping the blood with the lint, I put on the 
plaster, and then had time to be glad to see 
my brother, and to cry that he had so dreadful a 
reception. But he made light of it. He was so 
glad to get home. He says street-sweeping is 
much better than being a sailor, and all his ro- 
mantic ideas about 

" The ever blue, the wild, the free," 

seem pretty much evaporated. I believe he 
ate six boiled eggs this morning for breakfast. 
They were the first he had tasted in three 
years nearly. I hope more strawberries will 
be ripe by to-morrow. I picked all the ripe 
ones yesterday for mother. He says there is 
nothing would seem so good to him as a bowl 
of strawberries and milk. 

July 25th. — I have had no time to write 
since dear George came. Every day I have 
had to dress the wound on his face. I suppose 
that eating salt food so long has made his blood 
bad, for it is a shocking bite, and it makes me 



22 JANE BETHEL. 



quite faint to dress it, but I do not let him 
know that. 

July 30th. — It is pleasant to go to church 
with George, poor fellow ! I am afraid he will 
go to sea again, after all. He begins already 
to talk of the beautiful nights in the Southern 
Ocean. He tells of playing the flute in such 
nights, and the stillness of the sailors gathered 
to listen to him, and the beauty of the sea, 
of the joy of meeting other ships upon the. 
deep, of the "fun" of whale-catching! Oh 
dear, I fear he will go! 

August 10th. — George says there must be 
some to plough the sea as well as the land, and 
that but for sailors, the different nations of the 
world would be strangers to each other, and 
each quite isolated. I have been to see Miss 
Emily about it, and she says, those who once 
go on a long voyage as sailors, although they 
are sick of it, and think it a hard life when 
they just land, yet they almost always return 
to it ; and if they try to do business on land, 
they are unfitted for it, and long to be roving. 

September 1st. — George is gone ! Yesterday I 



JANE BETHEL. 23 



packed his trunk. Mother had fixed his clothes. 
I put in all the good books we possess : the 
Pilgrim's Progress, that I got for a prize at 
school — the beautiful Prayer Book that Miss 
Emily gave me for him, and which George 
says he shall like, because they have such 
strange Sabbaths, and no minister, prayers, 
or preaching. How I wish he could preach to 
the poor creatures, who he says are the refuse 
of all nations, and many of them as ignorant 
and vicious as heathen ! I put up many tracts, 
each one with a prayer that it might be the 
seed of good, and fall into some heart where 
it would bear fruit to the glory of God. 

Sept. 5tJu — It seems hardly possible that 
summer is so nearly gone — that George has 
come and gone — and that I must prepare for 
cold weather soon. Mother acts strangely 
since George went away. I think sometimes 
her head is affected. She suffers a great deal; 
and often this ,week I have had to keep awake 
half the night to watch her. I am afraid she 
is not in her right mind, but I cannot bear to 
think so. Amy grows sweet and lovely every 



24 JANE BETHEL. 



day. She is now more thoughtful, and con- 
trols her temper better, and is less disposed to 
be selfish. 

Sept. 8th. — Mother was very wild last night. 
James spent the evening at home, and brought 
her a bushel of potatoes from Squire Bean's. 
She said that there was no use in her living, 
to wear us all out earning money for her and 
taking care of her. James could not control 
her at all. I seem to be the only one w T hom 
she will allow to guide her. Heavenly Fa- 
ther ! give me strength. 

October 1st. — Mother is much the same. It 
is wonderful how God helps me ! I work all 
day at the mill, and in the evening do house- 
work. v Mother keeps her bed most of the time, 
only quitting it in a frantic fit, or to have her 
bed made. It is well that her mind is more 
tranquil during the day, as I should not dare 
to leave her, if she were as wild as she is 
in the night; and I must work in the mill, 
or have nothing to depend upon for our daily 
bread. Help me to cast all these cares upon 



JANE BETHEL. 25 



Thee ! for thou, my God ! hast said thou 
carest for me. 

January 1st. — I have had to be absent from 
the mill a good many days on mother's account. 
Her mind is constantly wandering, and I can- 
not allow myself a moment's sound sleep, 
for fear she will get away. Last night, worn 
weary with such constant care, I suppose I 
slept soundly a little while. When I awoke, she 
was not in her bed. I went into the little 
kitchen, and there, with the door wide open, 
and the storm of snow and sleet beating in, 
lay my dear mother. She had gone out, and 
returning, had fallen over the door-sill ; and 
when I found her, she was cold and insensible. 
I lifted her up as well as I could — made a fire — 
put warm things around her, and rubbed her 
a long time, till finally she revived. 

Jan. 8th. — Mother has been very ill since 

that dreadful cold and exposure. I do not 

know what we should do, but for Miss Emily ; 

she had a load of wood sent to us, and she 

brings mother most of the little food she eats. 

People say she cannot do what she would wish 

3 



26 JANE BETHEL. 



to ; for her father, although very rich, gives 
her no money, but makes her run up bills at 
the stores for what she wants ; and he always 
looks over the bills before paying them, and 
makes such a fuss about her having any thing 
bought for other people, that she does not dare 
to do it. She is too conscientious to deceive 
him, and do it in that way. Her mother is 
dead long ago ; and they say Mr. Blanque, to 
whom she is engaged, has not been there this 
winter. 

Jan. 15th. — Mother is more quiet, and too 
weak to leave her bed at all. This enables me, 
after making the room tidy, and giving Amy 
her breakfast, to leave home and work more 
at the mill. Mr. Brown is very kind, and lets 
me work when I can, although it would be 
better for him to have a regular hand. He 
sent me by Miss Emily, last week, an order on 
his store for $5. My good Heavenly Father ! 
make me thankful for all thy mercies. 

Jan. 26th. — Last week I went to the funeral 
of poor Mary Stray. She was a great reader 
of novels. She used to work in the mill, and 



JANE BETHEL. 27 



was there a little while after I began to go. 
The novels made her discontented; and she 
thought her step-mother was very cross and 
unkind, because she always told her it would 
be far better to read good books, and take 
wholesome exercise, and keep her clothes neat- 
ly, than to shut herself up, reading novels. 
She blamed her Maker for not making her 
rich, and determined to get an education. 
Last spring she allowed a young man to go 
and see her very often, and she accepted gifts 
from him, which she ought to have refused. 
She was very handsome ; and he flattered her, 
and told her he was going to Canada, and if 
she would leave the mill, and go to school and 
be educated, he would send her money from 
Canada to pay the bills. I suppose the poor 
thing hoped he would marry her in the end. 
He went away, and she went to a school in 
town, the teacher of which was a good and 
capable woman, but who w T as herself poor, and 
supporting a family by her teaching. She 
was there until the fall. Mrs. Damon, the 
teach.er, at the end of the term, told her she 



28 JANE BETHEL. 



wanted her pay. Mary Stray promised she 
should have it, for she said her friends would 
help her. Mrs. Damon allowed her to stay 
another quarter. She studied well, and went 
to church regularly. Last week, she told one 
of the trustees she was very unhappy, and the 
Sunday before she died, she cried all church- 
time. She went to her relations to borrow 
money, but they were all too poor, and told 
her she ought to work, as God had not given 
her the means to get an education. She then 
went to a gentleman in town, and asked him 
to lend her the money. It was a large sum 
she asked, and she did not tell him what she 
wanted it for. He, full of business and care, 
did not stop to ask the reason for such an un- 
usual request ; and Mary, disheartened and 
timid, went back to the school. That night, 
unknown to any one, she arose, dressed herself, 
and walked about a mile in the cold snow to 
the river. (They traced her steps afterward, 
and found she never faltered nor turned back.) 
When she reached the river, she sought a place 
where the ice was broken, and there they found 



JANE BETHEL. 29 



her lifeless body the next day. At first, very 
hard things were said of her, but in two or 
three days testimony was produced by her 
friends, which proved her only to have been 
ambitious, vain, and incapable of sound judg- 
ment, by novel reading. She had no faith or 
hope in God to keep her. She had never 
heard from the person who had flattered her, 
and believing he had ceased to love her, and not 
having the precious love of Christ, who never 
leaveth nor forsaketh those who put their trust 
in him, she has perished by suicide, and only 
sixteen years old ! God ! I thank thee for 
all thy mercies, for by nature I was as weak 
and foolish as this poor girl, and it is thy love 
and power that has kept me from wrecking 
myself even more than she has done. Bless 
this awful death, I pray thee, to all her asso- 
ciates, and may we all repent and be converted, 
lest in anger thou destroy us, or leave us to 
destroy ourselves ! There was not a dry eye 
at the funeral. 

Jan. 30th. — I believe that two of the worst 

girls at the mill, and several of the better 

3* 



30 JANE BETHEL. 



ones, are very anxious about their souls. Mo- 
ther is a little better. 

February 10th. — Last night dear Amy got up 
in the night, and when I awoke, she was crying 
at the foot of the bed. I asked her what was 
the matter ; and she said, " Oh, sister Jane ! I 
cannot sleep, I am so wicked !" 

" But you know, dear Amy, God will, for 
the blessed Saviour's sake, forgive all who 
confess and forsake their sins. Do you not 
believe it?" 

" Oh yes ; I know God is good, and Christ 
is good, but Jam so sinful !" and so she sobbed 
and cried. 

I soothed her as well as I could, and she 
finally went to sleep in my arms. God bless 
and save her ! 

Feb. 12th. — This morning I was at home at 
work. I noticed that Amy's eyes seemed all 
the while full of tears, but thought best not to 
say any thing. She tried to sing over her 
work, but had to give it up ; at last she put 
her work down, and came and kneeled beside 
me, sobbing as if her heart would break, and 



JANE BETHEL. 31 



told me she was afraid she should be lost ; that 
I did not know, and no one knew, how wicked 
she had been ; that she had taken some broken 
pieces of a gold ear-ring that belonged to mo- 
ther, and one day, when she went to school, 
she took them to the jeweller's, and sold them 
to him for three cents, and bought candy with 
the money. " But it didn't taste good, sister 
Jane ; and oh ! I have felt so guilty ever since ! 
I could hardly look you and mother in the 
face. You thought I was a good girl, and I 
thought so, too, sometimes ; but now I see what 
a wicked heart I have ; and I am afraid of 
God!" 

I told her to go into the other room alone, 
and kneel down and pray to God, telling him 
how wicked she had been, and asking him to 
forgive her for Christ's sake, and to give her 
a new and better heart. She went very un- 
willingly. 

Feb. l^th. — I asked Amy to-day, if she 
prayed when I told her to. She said, "No ;" 
and cried again. I told her God was the only 



32 JANE BETHEL. 



one to do her any good, and she would feel no 
better until she went to him. 

Three of the girls in the mill hope they love 
God. It is all so changed with them. They 
have a prayer-meeting nearly every evening, 
and many go. 

Feb. 18th. — Last evening, Aunt Sarah, who 
teaches an infant school out at the Millicent 
Factories, came down, and we had a little 
prayer-meeting. James was here, and Amy, 
and Ellen May, whose brother has hired the 
rooms below our's. Dear mother was quiet 
and in bed ; she does not seem to notice these 
things at all. 

When we arose from our knees after one of 
the prayers, which seemed like the cool and 
gentle dew, Amy's face was beaming. She 
went up to Aunt Sarah, and said, "Oh aunt, 
I feel so different ! so happy ! The peace of 
heaven came upon me during that prayer. I 
am not afraid of God now. I believe he loves 
me for Christ's sake, and has forgiven my 



sins." 



Feb. 24:th. — How unutterably merciful and 



JANE BETHEL. 33 



kind is God ! Dear Amy seems, indeed, like a 
new creature. This season of great joy will 
perhaps be temporary, but the memory of it 
will never fade away from her soul. It will be 
felt through her life, I hope, as the starting- 
point in her Christian walk, and remembered 
as the blessedness she knew 

"}Yhen first she saw the Lord." 

James is serious, but says very little. 
God ! if my death would save him, thou know- 
est I would die for him. But that is not 
necessary. Christ, the Lamb of God, has been 
slain for the sins of the whole world. " Draw 
him to thyself." The meetings at the mill are 
very interesting. I have not been able to go 
very often. My side troubles me, and my 
breath is short. 

March 1st. — To-day we heard that George's 
ship had been spoken. Dear Miss Emily sent 
us the good news. She saw it in their paper. 
How thoughtful and kind she is ! 

March 2d. — Mother is now badly again, and 
I cannot, I fear, go to the mill. What will 
become of us ? Not a sparrow falleth without 



34 JANE BETHEL, 



thy knowledge, my Father ! Thou feedest 
the ravens, and thou wilt hear me when I cry ! 
Last Sunday was communion, and Miss Chank, 
who leads the singing, sang 

" Corue, ye disconsolate," 

all alone. It went so to my heart, that I cried 
a little, but my spirit did not weep, for it seem- 
ed that the Holy Comforter soothed me with 
those words. 

March 20th. — Weary enough in body, but 
happy at heart. Thank God for Amy, and for 
James, and for all those at the mill, to whom 
he has "revealed himself as merciful and gra- 
cious, pardoning iniquity, transgression, and 
sin." "Bless the Lord, my soul!" 

Mother is very bad ; I have no time to make 
bread, even, and there is no flour, if I had. 
Never mind ! Potatoes and salt taste very 
good, when one is hungry; and I keep the 
crackers Miss Emily sent, for mother. We do 
very well after all. 

March 25th. — Nothing in the house to eat. 
James does not like to ask Mr. Bean for more 
potatoes, because he has lost a cow, and the 



JANE BETHEL. 35 



bank where he owned a few shares, has failed, 
and he feels very poor. 

March 26th. — Miss Emily came yesterday 
afternoon ; she asked me what we had to eat, 
and I had to tell her. She did not say any 
thing ; but before tea she came down, and told 
me she was going to give lessons in painting 
to the daughter of Squire Gray, and should 
order the baker to leave us a large loaf every 
week, and that her lessons would more than 
pay for it ; and her brother sent us half a dol- 
lar ; and Mrs. Matoon sent a man down with a 
peck of potatoes, some salt pork, and some 
cabbage. I arose poor enough, but went to 
sleep rich, and I hope thankful, but not as 
thankful as I ought to be. God ! bless Miss 
Emily ! Reward her in thy kingdom with 
glory everlasting, and give her peace and joy 
in thee, while thou keepest her on earth. 

March 1st. — Miss Emily has been to the 
Deacon's, and they promise to pay mother's rent 
until she is better ; and the overseers sent her 
wood; — this and Miss Emily's loaf a week, 
will help us nicely. I wish I had some good 



36 JANE BETHEL. 



stockings for Amy. She could knit them, but 
I cannot afford the yarn. She knit me my old 
ones, and Miss Emily's, last fall ; but they are 
worn out, — they were well worn before ; how- 
ever, warm weather is coming again. What 
a blessing summer is to the poor ! 

March 5th. — I wanted to see Miss Emily's 
dearest friend ; she has told me so much about 
her. Last week she came to make her a visit, 
and to-day they came here. She is not pretty, 
but has a noble look, — as if all her thoughts 
were above the stars. They told me I might 
go on Tuesday evening, and hear her play on 
the organ at our church ; and they hope it will 
be a moonlight night. Amy and Ellen May 
are to go with her ; and Miss Betty, the seam- 
stress, says she will sit by mother for an hour. 

March 8th. — Have been last night and heard 
Miss Mason play. The moon lighted all the 
church on one side, and the shade was on the 
other, so that it seemed far larger than in the 
day. Afterward, she played for Miss Emily to 
sing the chant, " Come unto me all ye that 
labour and are heavy laden, and I will give 



JANE BETHEL. 37 



you rest. Take my yoke upon you and learn 
of nie, for I am meek and lowly in heart, and 
ye shall find rest to your souls.'' I have been 
to Thee, and thou hast given me rest. 

March 12th. — Miss Mason has given Amy 
just what she wanted, both woollen and cotton 
yarn. Mother is really better in body and 
mind, for the last few days. 

March 15th. — I began to go to the mill 
again yesterday. Pleasant and sweet faces 
are there now, made new by the purifying of 
the Holy Spirit; and kind words and smiles 
instead of coarse and unholy ones mingled with 
rude laughter. 

Regeneration! Yes, as Miss Emily says, 
the word means "new-born," and so it is, "old 
things have passed away, and all things have 
become new." I believe I raised a little blood 
to-day. My side aches much. 

March 20th. — Mother improves. She sits 
up all day now, and is calm. She has not had 
a frantic fit for nearly a month. Sweet Ellen 
May ! Shall I ever be as truly good as she is ? 
Her brother must be a very bad man. He is 



38 JANE BETHEL. 



out very late of nights. I asked her why she 
sat up for him, and told her it would wear her 
out. She looked like nothing earthly, when 
she said, " c It suffereth long and is kind; it 
never faileth.' Nothing else that I can do will 
win him back to the right way. I am thank- 
ful he is not intemperate. Thrown as a clerk 
at twelve years of age into a great city, with- 
out the restraints of home, and the saving 
grace of the Holy Spirit, I too should have 
fallen, perhaps, lower than he has!" 

I left her, thinking I could hardly bear 
what she so meekly bore, and that the heart 
of her brother must be hard indeed, to let him 
go on in this course, — so sure to break her 
heart. 

March 24:th. — I was vexed yesterday, but I 
need not have been. Mrs. Scrub, who lives 
opposite, came in to see mother, and brought 
her a pie. Then she sat an hour, and said Amy 
was being spoiled, going to school, knitting, 
and sewing, and reading so much; and said 
her hands were as tender as Miss Emily's ! I 
need not have minded what she said, but I was 



JANE BETHEL. 39 



so wicked I could not taste her pie, and I am 
afraid I wished she had not brought it. 

March 28th. — Very severe pain in my side, 
and raised blood all the way to the mill. I 
suppose it must be from my throat, for the 
specks of cotton always in the air at the mill, 
have made me cough all winter, and have given 
me an ugly feeling in my throat. 

April 21st. — I have been two weeks quite 
ill. Ellen May has tended me like an elder 
sister, and Amy has been very gentle and 
thoughtful. Dear mother happily has been 
unusually quiet and well, and has even roused 
herself to do many things for me. I think 
my illness has done her good, by making her 
think less of her own pains and more of mine. 

April 26th. — Very weak, but well in spirit. 
Sometimes, when I think over God's mercies to 
me, — when I consider how many and good 
friends he has placed around me, how many 
religious privileges I have, and how little pain 
I suffer, (for although I am so weak, I have 
no pain to speak of, my cough is the only 
thing that hurts me,) — when I look these all 



40 JANE BETHEL, 



over, I am afraid he is giving me my good 
things in this life. And when I think further 
of his one unspeakable gift to save my soul, 
I long for heaven, that I may pour out my 
whole heart in one undying song of praise! 
Glory and honour and blessing and power 
be unto the Lamb for ever and ever ! 

April 28th. — The violets that I planted in 
the raisin-box, and have had in my window all 
winter, are lovely. Out of doors, the dear 
birds come to the tree near my window, and 
sing as if they knew I was sick, and would 
fain gladden me with a little concert. How 
beautiful and fair is this glorious world! I 
should like to see what beauties God has in 
store in heaven, for if it so far excels the earth, 
He must be rich indeed in power ! His way is 
so perfect, that he can express it in a thousand 
different forms, and yet leave its real perfection 
to be revealed only in heaven. He uses few 
colours for the flowers, and yet what infinite 
variety in their contrasts, and their shades so 
exquisitely blended ! 

He uses but one colour for the foliage of the 



JANE BETHEL. 41 



trees and shrubs, yet there is no monotony! 
The varied forms of the leaves, the different 
-ways they grow upon the stem, or are sus- 
pended from it; the different heights of the 
trees and the unequal length of their branches ! 
Oh ! it is wonderful how one vast mind could 
plan it all, and keep it going without altera- 
tion, without having to alter or repair it, re- 
newing every spring the decay of the autumn, 
and leading the world as by a resurrection out 
of the winding-sheet of winter, and the cold 
and still embrace of death, into the renewed 
life, the verdure, the bloom of spring ! 

May Day. — Amy brought me to-day a sweet 
bunch of the trailing arbutus, and Miss Emily 
sent me to read, the "Voices of the Night/' 
Two verses struck me much just now: 

" And thou too, whosoe'er thou art 

That readest this brief psalm, 
As one by one thy hopes depart, 

Be resolute and calm. 
Oh fear not in a world like this, 

And thou shalt know, ere long, 
Know how sublime a thing it is 

To suffer and be strong !" 

" Strong in the Lord, and in the power of 
4* 



42 JANE BETHEL. 



his might." "For if we suffer with him, we 
know that we shall also reign with him." 

May 2d. — Ellen May embroiders and 
works on ornamental needle-work, to support 
herself and her wicked brother. He gets 
worse and worse. Had to-day a letter from 
our dear George. He has been ill in a hospital 
in Valparaiso, but was nearly well when he 
wrote. I thank thee, my Father. Do thou 
convert, and restore his soul. 

May 6th. — Theresa May came back from 
the West to-day. She got tired of the mill, 
and thought she would go out West, where her 
brother is. She took the fever and ague, and 
spent all her money in her sickness. Her 
brother had married, and could do nothing for 
her; so she wrote back to Mr. Brown, the 
owner of the mill, that she was very home- 
sick, and if he would only send her money to 
come back with, she should be perfectly happy. 
He sent her twenty dollars, and she has re- 
turned. She says some persons think mill- 
owners have no hearts, but she is sure Mr. 
Brown has a good and noble one. I think so 



JANE BETHEL, 43 



too. He has been very kind to me, and he 
has it in his power to do a great deal of good. 
Bless him, Lord! and help him do the 
work that thou hast given him to do, as one 
who must account to thee for the wealth and 
influence thou hast given him. 

May 5th. — Miss Emily came to-day, with 
Miss Mason. They say I must take a little 
journey. I have an uncle living not far from 
Stratford, and I told them if I could only get 
there ! He had written, asking me and Amy 
to go, and said if we would write, he would 
meet us any day in Stratford and carry us out 
to his farm. I should like very much to go, 
but know I have no money. Miss Mason says 
she will give me five dollars, and Miss Emily 
says her good kind friend, Colonel Segur, will 
give me a free ticket to Stratford, for he is 
one of the directors of the railroad, and is 
always kind to the poor, and she will give me 
some little needful things to wear. How kind 
they all are ! 

May 8th. — Miss Emily came again to talk 
about the journey. I told her she was too 



44 JANEBETHEL. 



good to one so unworthy, but I could not go 
without Amy, (I should be afraid to,) and I 
could not leave mother alone. She said that 
was true, and she would think about it. 

May 12th. — James came home last evening, 
and brought Amy a new gown, that he had 
earned by extra work. He was happy, and I 
was proud of him, and Amy delighted, both at 
his kindness and with the frock. 

May 14tth. — Miss Emily wrote to her cousin, 
a young gentleman in college, and to-day she 
brought me a package he sent by express, 
nineteen yards of good white cotton, two nice 
and pretty dresses, pins, needles, thread, soap, 
and many nice little things I would not have 
supposed he would think of. 

I cry every day with gratitude. What have 
I done, that people should be so good to me ? 
Nothing. The good Lord has put it into their 
hearts, and sent the ravens to feed me. Hath 
he not more than kept all his promises ? Yes, 
indeed, "I have all things and abound!" My 
cup overflows with mercy ! 

May 18th. — Ellen May came to say that 



JANE BETHEL. 45 



she had been thinking about my going away, 
and if I would trust her ( ! ) she would gladly 
take care of mother, and keep her from being 
lonely while we are gone. Is she not beauti- 
ful ? I shall accept her kind offer. Mother 
is now so well that she can cook a little for 
herself, and keep the room tidy. Miss Emily 
says, she will send her girl down to wash and 
clean for her once a week. Every obstacle 
seems to be removed by these kind friends. 
Surely I do not deserve such love and care. 

May 20th — I think I had best not try to 
go before June. I am getting a little stronger, 
and the weather will then be settled and warm. 
I am busy making my things and Amy's 
ready. I must make mother a cap, too, before 
I go, and another apron. Ellen May fitted 
my dresses for me. Miss Emily sends me blanc- 
mange every day or two, made of Irish moss ; 
it seems very good for my throat, and I love 
it, it tastes so clean. Colonel Segur gave her 
the free ticket to-day. He does not wish me 
to speak of it, because people might think he 
could often do it. He says, he does not think 



46 JANE BETHEL. 



it right to use his power to pass those who 
can and ought to pay, but he makes an ex- 
ception with pleasure in such a case as mine. 
Amy looks very neat in her new dress. I 
have made one of the de-laines for mother. 
Deacon Lee came to see us yesterday, and 
made mother cry, and I felt badly enough. 
He said he supposed we needed help. He 
wouldn't say we did not, but he would say, 
that old Miss Butler, a long time ago, thought 
she was weakly, and that the church ought to 
help her, and the church did; and she got 
into the way of being helped, and they had 
helped her now for twenty years. I could not 
talk to him. I am afraid I felt wickedly. 

Lord, give him more sympathy, and me a 
more cordial and forbearing love ! 

May 24:th. — I begin to dread this journey. 
What if I should be taken with bleeding and 
die there, or be killed on the rail-road ? But 

1 must not look at that side of things. Have 
I any reason to distrust the kindness of my 
Heavenly Father, or to think that his care 
will fail? "Thou wilt keep them in perfect 



JANE BETHEL. 47 



peace, whose souls are stayed on thee. Thou 
wilt hide them in thy pavilion, and thy banner 
over them shall be love." I hide beneath the 
shadow of thy wing, and will trust thee to-day, 
to-morrow, and for ever. 

May 27th. — Miss Mason came alone to see 
me to-day. She says that Miss Emily's en- 
gagement is broken off. Poor dear heart! 
But she has a higher arm to lean on than any 
earthly one, and a dearer love to console her 
in her Saviour. Mr. Blanque won her affection, 
and now has left her to marry a younger girl, 
who has red cheeks, bright eyes, and a frivo- 
lous heart ! Well, I shall always think it is 
better that Miss Emily could not marry him, 
for I am sure he did not appreciate or sympa- 
thize with her noble heart and beautiful soul. 
I am sorry I am going just now; not that I 
could do any thing for her; and can I not pray 
for her there as well as here? They are 
coming down to take tea with me to-morrow, 
and help me sew. They will bring their own 
things for the tea, so that we are to have no 
trouble. 



48 JANE BETHEL. 



May 28th. — Yesterday they came early 
after dinner. Ellen May had brought me 
some lovely mosses from the lake side, and I 
put them in soup-plates with water, and they 
were beautiful! Although Amy said they 
looked just like half a dozen frogs in one dish, 
with their speckled green backs. I asked her 
to the bee, and the tea, and very pleasant it 
was. I could see the ladies liked Ellen May 
nearly as well as I do. She is just like a 
lady herself, all but the clothes ; and those 
are always so neat and unpretending, that you 
do not think any thing about them. They 
finished my dress. Miss Mason trimmed 
mother's cap with a neat little cotton lace she 
brought, and Miss Emily trimmed my bonnet, 
and only smiled a little comically when I 
gave her two small bunches of cheap flowers 
I had sent Amy to buy for the inside. I sup- 
pose I ought not to have spent a shilling so 
foolishly, but she did not laugh at me for it ; 
and I thanked her in my heart, for I knew she 
did not think it very wise. 

May 29th. — I must leave my dear journal 



JANE BETHEL. 49 



at home, I believe, for our little trunk will only 
hold Amy's things and mine. Miss Emily 
says, she will write to me once, and that I 
must write after we get there ; and she wishes 
me to direct the letter to her, and that will 
save the postage for mother. How thoughtful ! 
I wish every one knew how to be as good as 
she is; but they do not; and yet people who 
only see her in society, say she is proud and 
cold. How little they know about her warm, 
loving, unselfish heart ! 

July 20th. — Six weeks gone ! How pleasant 
it was. Amy took the nicest care of me, and 
every one I met was kind. The conductors 
were like brothers, so respectful and con- 
siderate ; but the monotonous rumbling of the 
cars, — I can feel it now, — it seemed as if the 
track was laid through my brain, and the cars 
rushing over it inside my head. On the whole 
I am better, much better, for the journey. 
Poor Ellen May ! One Sabbath while I was 
gone, her brother came home at noon, laid 
down upon her lounge, and went to sleep. He 
did not wake when the bell rang for church : 

5 



50 JANE BETHEL. 



she went, supposing he would do very well 
without her, as he often slept so ; but when she 
returned, he was still asleep. She sat down 
to read, and thought he slept heavily, then 
came up and stayed a little while in our room : 
not hearing him at five o'clock, she said she 
must rouse him, and get their supper. She 
went down and tried. Mother heard a scream, 
and ran down, and found that she had tried 
every way to waken him, but could not. Ellen 
rushed out and called a doctor who happened 
to be passing. He said it was an apoplectic 
fit, and that he did not think he would ever 
awake. He tried to bleed him, but the blood 
was stagnant, and refused to flow. The good 
doctor promised to come back and spend the 
night with them, and left. He returned at 
eleven, but there was no change, only deeper 
sleep and heavier breathing. He never woke 
at all ; and they thought life ceased about nine 
o'clock the next evening! Ellen said mother 
did not seem excited or afraid, and that she was 
a comfort to her in those dark hours. He 
was buried in the new grave-yard, and Ellen 



JANE BETHEL. 51 



goes often to his grave, when I am sure it is 
not good for her, but I cannot hinder it. 

July 28th. — Miss Emily looks pale and sad. 
Miss Mason says she shall not leave her ; and, 
as she is an orphan, she can do as she chooses. 
Her brother (Miss Emily's) is studying medi- 
cine, since he was ordained as a minister, for 
he wishes to be thoroughly fitted to do good; 
and he can often gain access to the souls of 
the heathen by curing their bodies. It is 
long since we heard from George. I read 
yesterday of a vessel that sailed from New 
York with three hundred souls on board a 
year ago for Liverpool. No one has heard 
from her since. She has not arrived at her 
destined port; she has not been spoken by 
any other ship; but has silently and alone 
gone down into the deep with all her precious 
freight. 

July 30£A. — I begin to think of going again 
to the mill ; but coughing so long and hard as 
I do every morning, keeps me from getting 
strong enough. I w r ish to be earning some- 
thing, and relieve these kind friends from so 



52 JANE BETHEL. 



much expense ; but I must be patient. Miss 
Emily says, "They also serve God who only 
stand and wait," and that I do her good every 
day. I don't see how I do her any good, I 
am sure! When I was in Stratford, I saw 
the ocean often. Whenever cousin Joseph 
took me to ride, I almost always asked him to 
go where w r e could see the sea. How beauti- 
ful the sunsets were there! I have brought 
home a good many shells from the beach, and 
some pebbles, polished and worn very smooth 
by the long and constant washing of the 
water. 

August 8th. — Mother grows melancholy 
every day. Sometimes she wrings her hands 
and weeps. It distresses me very much, for 
nothing that I can do or say seems to cheer 
her, and she has taken the idea that no one 
likes her, or wants her to live. It is very sad 
to see her so. I told Miss Emily, and she 
says it is a part of her disease, and that she will 
try take her to ride in her father's gig when- 
ever she can. She says this gloom is just as 
much insanity as her frantic fits were ; and 



JANE BETHEL. 53 



that insane people are often alternating from 
one delusion to another; that some laugh, and 
sing, and talk, with unnatural vivacity, for 
months, and then sink into tears and gloom 
for a year. I wish I could help my dear 
mother bear this sorrowful load; but the Lord 
can lift it when he sees best. 

Aug. 9th. — Miss Mason and Miss Emily 
have gone to-day to the falls of St. Anthony, 
or rather they have started to go there. They 
will visit Niagara on their way. I hope the 
journey will do my dearest and kindest friend 
much good, diverting her mind from some sad 
thoughts. I believe her father (although he 
has the reputation of a hard and miserly man) 
loves her as well as he is capable of loving 
any thing. 

Aug. 12th. — How strange it seems that for a 
month I shall not see Miss Emily ! A letter 
from George says that he has left his ship, 
and sailed in another that is going to China, 
and is to touch at the Sandwich Islands. I 
once read "A Visit to the South Seas," and 
wished so much I could see those wonderful 

5* 



54 JANE BETHEL, 



islands. I am afraid George is yet uncon- 
verted, from the way he writes. 

I copy into my journal to-day (16th) the 
verses about "Enoch," that Miss Emily gave 
me when she went away. I wish to have them 
where I can read them often. 



He walked with God in holy joy 

While yet his days were few ; 
The deep, glad spirit of the boy 

To love and reverence grew. 
Whether, each nightly star to count 

The ancient hills he trod, 
Or sought the flowers by stream and fount, 

Alike, he walked with God. 

The graver mood of manhood came, 

All full of cares and fears, 
One voice was in his heart — the same 

It heard through childhood's years 
Amid fair tents and flocks and swains, 

O'er his green pasture sod, 
A shepherd king, on Eastern plains 

The patriarch walked with God. 

And calmly, brightly that pure life 

Melted from earth away; 
No cloud it knew, no parting strife, 

No sorrowful decay. 
He bowed him not, like all beside, 

Unto the spoiler's rod, 
But, joined at once the glorified, 

Where angels walk with God. 



JANE BETHEL. 55 



So let us walk ! The night must come 

To us that comes to all, 
We through the darkness must go home, 

Hearing the trumpet's call. 
Closed is the path for evermore, 

That, without death, he trod; 
Not so the way wherein of yore 

His spirit walked with God. 

I cannot tell how I feel when I read these 
lines, but I am sure it is something as Bunyan 
felt, when following Mr. Great Heart through 
the river that separated the land of Beulah 
from the Celestial City. 

Aug. 20th. — Mother is no better. Alas ! I 
hope Amy is not going to be sick, but the dear 
girl looks very slender, and it pains me to see 
it. I have not let her go to school this sum- 
mer, for I thought I would teach her what I 
knew ; and it would be better for her to have 
all the air and exercise she could get. I think 
she over-studied last winter. I wonder what 
makes us all so delicate ! They say that 
father died of consumption, and many of his 
family, and that children are apt to have the 
diseases of their parents. Well, let it be so ! 
One can as well love and glorify God, in a 



56 JANE BETHEL. 



frail, weak body, as in a stout and vigorous 
one ; and often, I think, sucli weak and feeble 
creatures are more likely to climb upward for 
a support. The oak and the elm and the 
maple, and all the strong trees, stand in 
their own strength, by fastening their roots 
firmly in the earth; but the tender creeper, 
with its slender roots, climbs upward, lean- 
ing on another, higher and stronger than 
itself. 

Aug. 24:th. — I can see that mother is set- 
tling into a confirmed sadness. She is now 
quite passive, and says nothing for whole days 
together. James has done a good deal of 
extra work this summer, and has raised some 
vegetables for us in the little bed we are en- 
titled to, in the garden attached to this house. 
Ellen May got a man to take her's, and give 
her half what he could raise from it. I have 
wished we could sometimes have a piece of fresh 
meat, on Amy's account ; for she grows fast, 
and seems to need more nourishing food than 
we have. Mrs. Boncceur has given her some 
hens, and James has fixed a place for them. I 



JANE BETHEL. 57 



hope they will give us some eggs, at least, if 
we cannot raise the chickens. 

Aug. 28th. — How strangely things do hap- 
pen ! I wished for meat, and just then came the 
hens to lay us eggs, — and to-day, Mrs. Chase, 
the hotel-keeper's wife, sent down word, that 
once a week, if Amy would go there with a 
covered basket, she would give her pieces of 
cold meat left from her table, enough to keep 
us through the week. She cannot use them 
for hashes, and they are just as nice as what 
her boarders eat. This was more kind and 
thoughtful, — a greater charity than she thinks. 

September 8th. — Peaches ! Early peaches ! 
I wonder if they would taste as good if we could 
have them the whole year round ? Amy is not 
well. She looks tired all the time. I do not 
let her know how I am troubled about her. I 
see that she often, when coming up the stairs, 
sits down half-way and rests, as if it was a 
great exertion to ascend a flight of eleven 
steps ! If she were w^ell as I was at her age, 
she would run up easily without stopping ; and 
I was not very strong. She is too pale ; and 



58 JANE BETHEL. 



I cannot coax her to eat much, — although she 
seems to find that the fresh meat tempts her 
appetite more than any thing else, except the 
peaches. 

Sept. 12th. — Amy has a better colour for 
these few days, and seems stronger in the 
afternoon. I expect our dear Miss Emily will 
soon return. I wish my brother James could 
marry Ellen May. I want her to be my sis- 
ter; but that is all nonsense ! I suppose James 
will have next year the offer to live with Mr. 
Gordon, who has built the elegant new house 
at Burnside. He w T ants a sort of farmer and 
gardener combined, who can oversee his hun- 
dred acres of land ; and has built the most 
cunning little cottage for his farmer to live in, 
with a dairy attached to it, and a little con- 
servatory. 

Sept. 15th. — I do not feel quite satisfied 
about Amy's returning colour, and her eyes 
are too clear and bright; yet it is, perhaps, all 
the fearfulness of an over-anxious love ! James 
brought me a pigeon to-day. It seemed a 
shame to eat it ; but it was very good, and 



JANE BETHEL. 59 



Amy and mother seemed to enjoy their 
share. 

Sept. 18th. — The walls in our room are a 
sight ! The old, dingy, smoky paper, has 
peeled off in many places, and looks so ragged, 
I must try to buy some newspapers, and cover 
the walls. It will be better than this — so 
smoked and torn. I got little Sam Bow to go 
to the reading-room for me, and ask if they 
would give him a quantity of cast-by papers. 
He brought me a wheelbarrow full. I have 
now plenty to make my room look tidy ; but I 
forgot that I must have flour for paste ; and 
for that I shall have to wait, as I do not feel 
at liberty to use what is given us for food, in 
that way. 

Sept. 21st. — The flour was given, and the 
paper is on, to my great satisfaction. Poor, 
dear Amy ! She has two round bright spots 
in her cheeks every afternoon; her pulse is 
quick and weak ; and in the mornings she 
seems pale and weary, like a wilted flower. 

Sept. 28th. — Miss Emily has come. I 
watched her when she first saw Amy, and I 



60 JANE BETHEL. 



am sure she shuddered. Lord God ! must 
I drink this cup ! 

Sept. 80th. — Amy seems better to-day. Miss 
Mason brought her a pin-cushion made by the 
Indians — the Tuscaroras — who live near the 
Falls of Niagara. They have enjoyed their 
journey very much ; and I can see that Miss 
Emily is less abstracted and sorrowful. Miss 
Mason says her appetite is better, and that 
she is sure now that her trial will not any 
longer do her harm. She has a strong spirit, 
and she will triumph over all her weakness, 
because she draws from fountains of strength 
on high. 

October 8th. — Alas ! our precious Amy has 
drooped very fast this week, and she now sits 
up but little. It is quite clear to me how it 
will end ; and yet I try to flatter myself that 
there is still hope. 

Oct. 12th.— No better. 

Oct. 15th. — I cannot write this sad record of 
decay. 

Oct. 20th.— « Help me, God! for the 
waters overflow my soul !" 



JANE BETHEL. 61 



Oct. 29th. — All is over on this earth for the 
darling ! " my God !" 

December 1st. — One month ago we laid my 
precious Amy in the grave. She passed away 
with the leaves, and the birds, and all gentle 
and beautiful things. I have one angel less, 
and heaven has one more ! 

Miss Emily comes and sits by me ; she does 
not talk, and I cannot ; but I know how truly 
she weeps with, and prays for me. 

Dec. 5th. — Mother has hardly seemed to 
know that Amy was sick, or that she has gone 
from us. 

She looks as if she saw nothing — heard no- 
thing — felt nothing. 

Miss Mason came to-day alone. She brought 
me these strong lines, which she says Miss 
Emily repeats now a great deal : — 

I have done at length with dreaming, 

Henceforth, thou soul of mine, 
Thou must take up sword aud gauntlet, 

Waging warfare most divine. 

Life is struggle, combat, victory ! 

Wherefore have I slumbered on, 
With my forces all unmarshalled, 

With my weapons all undrawn ? 
6 



62 JANE BETHEL. 



Oh ! what a glorious record 

Had the angels of me kept, 
Had I done, instead of doubted, 

Had I warred, instead of wept. 

Yet my soul, look not behind thee, 

Thou hast work to do at last : 
Let the brave toil of the present, 

Overarch the crumbled Past. 

Build thy great acts high, and higher, 

Build them on the conquered sod, 
Where thy weakness first fell bleeding, 

"Where thy prayer rose strong to God. 

Dec. 10t7i. — Miss Emily has gone to see her 
cousin, a married lady, who is very ill. James 
feels our dear Amy's loss very deeply. I can 
see him rub his coat-sleeve across his eyes 
when he has accidentally taken up a box or 
book that was her's ; and last Sunday night, 
when I was singing 

" Softly now the light of day 
Fades upon my sight away," 

he arose and hastily left the room. Amy used 
to sing the second to it. When he came back, 
I knew he had been crying. Oh ! that her 
death might wean us still more from earth ! 
and that we may strive more earnestly that we 



JANE BETHEL. 63 



may meet her, through " Him who hath loved 
us and given himself for us." 

Dec. 18th. — I cough shockingly. I have 
worn a crash towel over my chest, wet with 
cold water, and changed two or three times a 
day, and covered with a piece of oiled silk, to 
keep my clothes dry and exclude the air. That 
helped me for a long time, and has done me 
more good than any thing else I ever tried, 
except the sponge-bath every morning, and a 
great deal of rubbing with a coarse towel after- 
ward, which Miss Emily made me begin two 
years ago. I know I have been better for it all 
along. Perhaps, if I had always done it from a 
child, I should have been well and strong; but 
then it did not save Amy. I must feel more 
that life and health are in God's hands, — not 
that I would neglect any means of relief. 

Dec. 23d. — I sometimes think it hard that 
I must live on charity, when I would so will- 
ingly work to support myself and my poor 
mother. I know that many members of the 
church who have never known what it is to 



64 JANE BETHEL, 



drag a feeble body to a daily task, think we 
might do more for ourselves, or, at least, live 
with less assistance from others, by doing with- 
out many comforts. But they do not come 
here to see and know how it is — how the 
money is spent, and what it goes for. The 
church gives us thirty dollars a year. That 
all goes for the rent of these two little rooms, 
and the one bed in the garden. James, they 
think, might do more for us ; but he is only 
twenty years old, and has had no wages until 
this last year. His own board and clothes 
were all he had before that. He wants to 
marry, and has laid up in the savings bank 
thirty dollars of this year's wages. Ten of 
this he will use for our dear Amy's funeral ex- 
penses. The town gives us our wood ; we use 
three cords in the year, and use any kind that 
they send us. It is always green ; James cuts 
it for us, and tills our little bed in the garden. 
Miss Emily supplies most of mother's food that 
is delicate or nice, and all mine when I am 
more than usually ill. Many people occasion- 



JANE BETHEL. 65 



ally send us a token of their remembrance, — a 
pie, a cake, a pound of tea or sugar or butter ; 
and Deacon Lewis always brings me a quarter 
of a dollar every month. This money and all 
the money that is given me, goes for my me- 
dicine ; for if I go without that one day, I 
cough myself sick. I have often thought I 
would give it up, it is so expensive ; but 
I cannot take any rest from coughing with- 
out it. 

It is a little strange, that the people who 
never remember us, are the ones who complain 
that we are a burden on the church, and a tax 
to the town ; and who cruelly say, " that soon 
all the poor folks will join the church, if they 
find they can be supported like Jane and her 
mother !" I will not cry over these things any 
more. God knows that I would rather work, 
but his hand is sore upon me, and I must suffer 
his righteous will. Keep me, Heavenly 
Father ! from questioning thy love, from doubt- 
ing thy care, and the wisdom of thy dispen- 
sations. 

6* 



66 JANE BETHEL, 



Dec. 21th. — Mr. Brown has sent me six 
bottles of my medicine ; how very good he is ! 
I wish all mill-owners would take the time to 
do as much good as he does. I dare say, many 
rich men would never refuse to do a kind and 
generous thing, if the object would only go to 
them. The thing is, that so few take time to 
seek out proper objects; they are hurried, 
"and the cares of life, and the deceitfulness 
of riches, choke the good seed in their hearts.'' 
But if they ever reach heaven, and see what a 
scanty harvest awaits them there, they will 
then wish they had not sown so sparingly their 
good deeds on the earth, I fear. 

November 1st. — Miss Mason came to-day. 
She is preparing to go in the spring to Salo- 
nica, with Mr. Howard, Miss Emily's brother. 
They will be married in May, and sail soon 
after. I am afraid Miss Emily will get sad 
and lonely again after they are gone. Miss 
Mason will make a capital missionary — strong 
in body, stronger in spirit, with so large a 
heart, and so wise and calm a judgment ! 



JANE BETHEL. 67 



Nov. 8th. — Miss Emily has returned. She 
brought with her the little daughter of her 
friend, Mrs. Colebrook, who died in her arms, 
and left her daughter to her as a dying legacy, 
begging her to consider the child as her own, 
and to bring her up for another world, higher 
and purer than this ! 

Nov. 9th. — I saw little Jessie to-day, Miss 
Emily's adopted daughter. She is a promising 
child, but her mother was sick so long, that 
she was allowed to take care of herself very 
much, and she has become somewhat head- 
strong and self-willed in consequence. She 
seems to love Miss Emily, and yet to be a 
little in awe of her, which will be well. She 
is only seven years old. Her father has gone 
to Australia, and when he returns, (which they 
expect will be some time soon, as he wrote he 
should sail immediately.) he will find his plea- 
sant home deserted, his beloved wife in the 
grave, and his daughter almost a stranger to 
him. 

Nov. 19th. — A letter to-day from George. 



68 JANE BETHEL. 



He has been unfortunate, and was robbed at 
Canton of all his earnings. He was sick — the 
hot sun there having affected his liver. He 
took passage in a vessel bound home ; and when 
he arrived in New York, he could not bear to 
come here penniless, so he hired as second 
mate for a coasting voyage. This was in Oc- 
tober. The weather became severe. They 
were bound for Savannah, and were driven 
about in a storm of mingled snow and rain for 
days. (It was the last of October.) Eleven 
days and nights he had not a dry thread on, 
and was almost frozen the whole time. He 
wrote from Savannah, and has gone from 
thence to South America. What a wonder he 
is ! How much he has suffered ! How little 
people, in general, reflect at what cost of life 
and health and fortune their commonest com- 
forts are obtained ! How for three years to- 
gether, men leave all they love, and brave the 
hardships of the sea, to get the* oil for but 
a few little villages, to burn a short time ! 
How others broil in the fierce suns of the 



JANE BETHEL. 69 



tropics, and contract diseases that send them 
to early graves, in order that people at home 
may have their tea and coffee morning and 
night. 

Nov. 28th. — My cough is worse than it was 
a month ago, and far worse than it was in the 
summer. I can do little but read and think. 
My mind seems every day clearer, and my 
thoughts take a wider range. Perhaps I am 
preparing to leave this ante-chamber, and 
enter within the vail, " where Christ my 
forerunner is entered." Dear mother re- 
mains much as usual. I do not think my 
cough worries her, and it is a mercy it does 
not. 

January 1st. — I have been spared to see 
another year ! I have been worse again, and 
thought I should never recover to where I was 
a month ago. Every one has been kind. 
Little Jessie Colebrook has been down often, 
when Miss Emily could not come. She has 
got the tiniest pair of India rubber boots, that 
Miss Emily sent to Boston to get for her ; and 



70 JANE BETHEL. 



she goes out in all weather, and comes dancing 
into my room out of the storm, with her cheeks 
glowing, and her eyes shining. Oh, how 
beautiful childhood is ! And Miss Emily thinks 
so too ; for she does not dress Jessie in feathers 
and velvet, but in the simplest clothing adapted 
to the season. How sensible she is ! Yet no 
one thinks the child less lovely, because she is 
not loaded with finery. 

Jan. 5th. — Miss Mason is making up many 
clothes for her voyage, because she will find it 
difficult to obtain suitable clothing at Salonica; 
and she wishes to have nothing to do when she 
arrives there, but to arrange their household 
matters, learn the language, get acquainted, 
and as soon as possible begin her proper mis- 
sionary work. 

Jan. 8th. — I am better again to-day. What 
a resource my journal is! I sometimes fear 
I spend too much time over it. Miss Mason 
came to-day. She says Miss Emily is very 
much interested in her little charge, and she 
thinks a kind Providence has led her there to 



JANE BETHEL. 71 



occupy her heart, when she and Mr, Howard 
are gone far away, I think so too; and it is 
only one more instance where "they that 
water others, shall themselves also be watered." 
It will be a great care ; but Young says — 

" Life's cares are blessings, 
And he who has them not must make them." 

No one can live without caring for others. 
The canker eats into the heart that only minds 
itself. The rose-buds that will not unfold 
their petals and shed abroad their perfumes, 
drop blighted from the stalk, or decay un- 
mourned beneath the green leaves. What a 
useless life I lead ! 

Jan. 12th. — Miss Emily says I do not look 
as well. Sweet Ellen May has been gone 
some weeks to visit a cousin, but has come 
home to-day, to gladden us all with her 
sympathy. How blessed I am in kind and' 
loving Christian hearts ! James is a dear, 
good brother. I wrote a little note to one of 
the girls in the mill, during the revival last 



72 JANE BETHEL. 



year, and to-day she came to see me. She 
says that poor note was the first thing that 
set her thinking about a future life. She has 
united with the church this winter, and she 
talked like one who has passed from death unto 
life. " Bless the Lord, my soul, for he 
hath done marvellous things, whereof I am 
glad!" 

Jan. 15th. — Poorly to-day. I cannot 
write. 

Jan. 18th. — Miss Mason brought me Hhese 
glorious lines by "Baxter" to-day. I must 
find strength to copy them : — 



Let me go ! my soul is weary 

Of the chains that bind it here ; 
Let my spirit bind its pinion 

To a brighter holier sphere : 
Earth, 'tis true, has friends who bless me 

With their fond and faithful love ) 
But the hands of angels beckon 

Me to brighter climes above. 

Let me go ! for earth has sorrow, 
Sin and pain and bitter tears; 

All its paths are dark and dreary, 
All its hopes are fraught with fears ; 



JANE BETHEL. 73 



Short-lived are its brightest flowers ; 

Soon its cherished joys decay ; 
Let me go : I fain would leave it 

For the realms of cloudless day. 



Let me go ! my heart hath tasted 

Of my Saviour's wondrous grace 
Let me go, where I shall ever 

See and know him face to face ; 
Let me go : the trees of heaven 

Rise before me, waving bright, 
And the distant crystal waters 

Flash upon my failing sight. 



Let me go ! for songs seraphic 

Now seem calling from the sky; 
*Tis the welcome of the angels, 

"Who e'en now are hovering nigh : 
Let me go : they wait to bear me 

To the mansions of the blest, 
Where the spirit, worn and weary, 

Finds at last its long-sought rest. 



He must have been near enough heaven, 
when he wrote it, to feel its gales upon his 
brow. 

I am very tired to-day, so weak ! 

Jan. 2oth. — For a week I have been a little 
stronger, and have coughed less, I think. This 

7 



74 JANE BETHEL, 



mild week has helped me. We were out of 
wood just before New-Year, and the overseers 
forgot to send it, so that we were entirely des- 
titute for four or five days. Ellen May had 
burned all her's before she went away, and 
engaged some that was not to come until her 
return. James was unusually busy at Mr. 
Bean's, and did not happen to come up that 
week from Monday to Saturday. I believe it 
made me much worse. At last Jessie came, 
and went back and told Miss Emily, who sent 
us down enough to last until the overseers 
were reminded about it. I suppose they have 
their own business to attend to as well as the 
town's, and so they forget. 

Jan. 28th. — Three months ago to-day our 
darling Amy "fell asleep. ,, I could not at 
that time write about her death; but now I 
wish to put down in my journal all I can re- 
member that she said, for I may forget some 
of it if I leave it unrecorded. She wanted me 
to sing hymns to her, to pray, and read from 
the Scriptures often. She was not obliged to 



JANE BETHEL. 75 



keep her bed but a very few days, but sat 
most of the time supported in her chair by 
pillows. Her's was unearthly beauty. Such 
a smile I have never seen ; and the smile was 
ever ready. No repining, no tears, but calmly 
and gratefully and sweetly she went down to 
the river, and welcomed the rising of its 
waters. "Peace, peace !" She would sit for 
hours with her hands folded and eyes closed, 
then open them, and seeing my anxious love, 
say, "Peace, peace !" "I feel that Christ has 
laid me on his bosom like a wounded lamb, and 
<I fear no evil/ I shall go to sleep soon upon 
his bosom. Dear Jane, precious sister! It 
will not be long. I shall be only there a little 
before you." Again she would say, " Oh, the 
love of God in Christ ! Shall I ever know it 
all! I praise thee, I bless thee, I worship 
thee — 

'While life or thought or being last, 
Or immortality endures/ 

" Saved ! Oh sister, what a thing it is to be 
saved by the precious blood of Jesus! 



76 JANE BETHEL. 



'For Christ the heavenly Lamb, 
Takes all my sins away.' 

How precious, how dear he is !" Her pray- 
ers were short — for her want of breath pre- 
vented her saying much — but I could see 
her thoughts were one long prayer for the 
salvation of George, for the sanctification of 
the church, for the saving of the world. " Thy 
kingdom come, Lord, on earth, even as in 
heaven," was frequently on her lips. About 
two hours before she died, she asked me to 
sing— 

"When I can read my title clear f 

and then — 

"Majestic sweetness sits enthroned 
Upon the Saviour's brow." 

After that, her breathing was fainter and 
fainter. The last words we heard were "blessed 
Saviour.' ' Her lips moved afterward, but we 
could not distinguish the words. It was 
hardly death — it was more like translation. 



JANE BETHEL. 77 



Shall I die as happily, and with as little fear 
or suffering ? 

Jan. 28th. — I have, once in a great while, 
"a horror of death." It seems to fall upon 
me from outside myself. It is as if I might 
be tranquilly walking in the sunlight, and 
some one steal unperceived behind me, and 
throw over me a black pall, shutting out 
the light and nearly stifling me in its thick 
folds. 

Jan. Sth. — Cold, very cold. I feel no 
worse that I know, but cannot get warm at 
all. 

Jan. 12th. — We do not hear from George. 
I am anxious. 

Feb. 11th. — " Create in me a clean heart, 
God, and renew a right spirit within me. Cast 
me not away from thy presence, and take not 
thy Holy Spirit from me." Mother is a mira- 
cle to me. She is like one dead. How very 
strange it is ! Ellen May sits with me much, 
bringing her sewing. We do not always talk, 
for it wearies me to say much ; but she sings 



78 JANE BETHEL. 



to me, or repeats sweet hymns, (of which 
she knows so many,) or passages from the 
Bible. 

Feb. 21st. — James will marry Ellen May if 
they live. She is my soul's sister, and I am 
glad that when I am gone, I can feel that her 
love will supply my loss. No one else could 
be so kind to my poor, afflicted mother, and 
James will be blessed in a heavenly-minded 
and excellent wife, with a loving heart, and a 
cheerful spirit. 

Feb. 25th. — This engagement of Ellen and 
James fills my cup of mercies. I cannot tell 
how it has relieved my heart. Now if I might 
hear of George's conversion, I should depart 
in peace. 

Feb. 21th. — Worse again, and oh! so 
weak ! 

March 2d. — I see that I shall add but little 
more to this brief journal of my life. How 
has the Lord led me, and sustained me, and 
comforted me ! Oh, for heaven to praise him 
as I would ! 



JANE BETHEL. 79 



March 8th. — "Thy rod and thy staff, they 
comfort me." 

March 12th. — Failing, I can see 

"A mortal paleness on my cheek, 
But glory in my soul." 

I dreamed of Amy last night. She seemed to 
look out of a cloud upon me and smile. Then 
the cloud passed over her, as it does over the 
face of the moon. 
March 18th.— 

"Here in the body pent, 

Afar from heaven I roam, 
Yet nightly pitch my moving tent, 
A day's march nearer home." 

March 19th.— "The bosom of God is the 
home of the soul." 

After this date, March 19th, Jane was 
too weak to sit up. She lingered six weeks, 
suffering at times for want of breath, and 
enduring severe paroxysms of coughing. Her 
spirit was maintained by her beloved Lord 
in perfect peace, and the most unwavering 



80 JANE BETHEL. 



and childlike trust. "I know that my Re- 
deemer liveth," was her language, "and 
though, after my death, worms shall destroy 
this body, yet in my flesh shall I see God." 
It was a blessed privilege to spend an hour 
with her ; so meek, so uncomplaining, so grate- 
ful to God and all who loved her. I never 
returned from visiting her, that I did not feel 
my own coldness rebuked, and my ingratitude 
to my Heavenly Father more deeply realized. 
She did not know that she was dying at first, 
but when the shadow of death passed over her, 
she said — 

"More light! It is dark here! Raise the 
curtain !" 

I said, "Dear Jane, the curtain is raised." 

"Then this is death," said she, "and it 
is good to die. Come Lord Jesus, come 
quickly. I do not mean to be impatient, but 
'Thy will be done.' <0 Lord in thee have I 
trusted!' I feel the everlasting arm beneath 
me." 

After a dreadful struggle for breath, she 



JANE BETHEL. 81 



said, "That was hard, but the glory ex- 
ceedeth — it is revealed — I see it — Pure and 

perfect light — The Lamb — The temple Tell 

George to meet me -Christ died — Glory to 

God ! — Into thy hands — Thou hast redeemed 

me" 

We heard no more; but the repose of heaven 
rested on her brow as she lay in the stillness 
of death. 

"Happy soul! thy days are ended, 

All thy mourning days below 
Go ! by angel guards attended, 

To the sight of Jesus go. 
Die, to live a life of glory, 
Suffer, with thy Lord to reign." 

This little history is a perfectly true one. 
It shows what the grace of God can accom- 
plish in the heart of the humblest and weakest 
of his children. It is all fact, as many can 
testify who knew and loved "Jane Bethel. ,, 
Her mother remains as she was when Jane 
died. Her brother is now the husband of 
Ellen May, and she will probably live with 
them "until her change come." 



82 JANE BETHEL. 



"I have been young and now am old, yet 
have I not seen the righteous forsaken, nor 
his seed begging bread." 

Miss Mason is married, and has gone with 
Mr. Howard on his mission. Their field 
was changed before they left, but wherever 
they may be, they will be as trees planted 
beside living waters, whose leaf shall never 
fail. 

Miss Emily, since the death of her father, 
has enlarged the old place, and adopted into 
her heart five more little girls and two little 
boys. All are orphans, and she hopes for 
His blessing, who said, "Suffer little children 
to come unto me." 

Dear reader, will you not be led, by the 
example which has now been exhibited, to 
more devotion to your Saviour, a more con- 
stant and earnest doing of his work ? Whether 
old or young, whether poor or rich, whether 
sick or well, you can glorify God "with the 
body and with the spirit which are his." 
And if you are unconverted, "Behold, I set 



JANE BETHEL. 



83 



before you an open door." "Christ is the 
way and the truth and the life," and he says, 
"Him that cometh to me, I will in no wise 
cast out." Choose ye this day whom ye will 
serve. 




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